


Crazier Than You

by WerepuppyBlack



Category: Addams Family - All Media Types, Young Dracula
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-12-17
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-27 10:45:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/294960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WerepuppyBlack/pseuds/WerepuppyBlack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dracula family are to have visitors who are entirely their sort of people. Of course, this makes them increasingly strange to normal people, but normal is relative and these breathers have a passion for the dark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Visit From Some Dear Friends

The letter arrived in a fit of black smoke, causing the Count to laugh uproariously, and answer it straight away. Since this rarely happened, it drew everyone's attention. Even Bertrand's, though he acted otherwise. "Hm? Oh that, just a little … trifling matter," was the Count's only response. Didn't quite wipe the knowing smirk from his face though, and when he announced a week later that their honoured guests where due to arrive, Vlad and Ingrid exchanged a set of glances that proved that not a lot could stop them from being the long-suffering sibling spawn of Dracula. The last time the Count announced the arrival of honoured guests... well, they managed to get all the blood off the ceiling  _eventually_. Erin had looked questioningly at Vlad, but received a shrug in return. Until the Count told them otherwise, he was as much in the dark as she was.

The honoured guests arrived the Wednesday after and Vlad couldn't help but later look back and laugh on the odd appropriateness of that day. "Count Dracula!" Gomez Addams called happily, arms outstretched in a warm greeting. "Come on old man, it's been far too long!" he said, clapping the Count's hand and shaking it in that friendly but forceful manner only an Addams could manage.

"Far too long," the Count agreed readily, showing a pointed smile. "We really should have made it back one summer, but what can I say? The pickings on this little island..." he trailed off, into a throaty laugh that had Ingrid muttering curses under her breath, looking back into the gloom of the school waiting so invitingly, and Vlad rolling his eyes from his position of leaning against the wall. Erin shifted uncomfortably, and Wolfie... Wolfie was oblivious, running up to his sister with a stick, waiting on her to throw it for him. Bertrand was stiffer than usual, Vlad noticed from the corner of his eye, and it became apparent why very quickly after.

A dark beauty stepped forward, tiny steps in the hobble dress that Ingrid eyed in her critical but appreciative manner. "Cousin Bertrand," she smiled without showing her teeth. "You missed the family reunion," she reproached gently. Bertrand gave an expression that would have suggested a slight colouring. Were he anyone other than Bertrand, that is.

"Cousin Morticia," he greeted with an incline of his head. "I was... detained. By the Grand High Council," he offered as explanation.

Morticia gave a nod, understanding, and turned her gaze upon Vlad, Ingrid, and Erin – Wolfie had run over and attached himself to the Count when Morticia had come over to speak to Bertrand. "Ingrid, you're looking absolutely deadly," she said warmly, pressing her finger tips together. Ingrid gave a smirk, pleased to be the first greeted for once.

"I do try," she replied smugly. "You look like you haven't slept in months," she said. Erin paled.

"Ingrid, I don't think-"

"Why, thank you darling," Morticia smiled again. "But you're too kind, I'm sure it looks like I haven't slept in only  _days_." She turned to look at Erin, inspecting her slightly. "Such a pale thin face," she said. "Yes, she is a charming little thing," she added, smiling that odd smile once more. "A charming pet, Ingrid, I'm sure she makes the most dreadful lover." Erin spluttered, her pale cheeks flushing just slightly at the words. Ingrid didn't say anything to this, just held a smirk in place. Morticia turned to Vlad. "We've been hearing so much about you," she said to him.

"It's all lies," Vlad responded, his mouth pulling up at the corner. Morticia's smile grew a tiny bit. There was a noise of a trigger being pulled and Vlad only  _just_  managed to grab the crossbow bolt before it pierced his chest. He looked up, to see Wednesday lowering her crossbow, a scowl on her face. No change there. An easy smirk appeared on Vlad's face. There was a laugh from Ingrid.

"You remember Wednesday, don't you Vlad?" Morticia said, looking between the two. Vlad went over to the girl, who regarded him silently. There was a moment, before she held out her hand. Vlad laughed softly, handing back the bolt and grinning.

"'Course I do," he replied. "Long time, Wed," he said sincerely. Then, as if struck by sudden inspiration, he lifted her hand, dropping a kiss on it.

"You're trying to be a gentleman," Wednesday said.

"Yes."

"Don't."

Vlad laughed.

 **xXx**

Vlad and Wednesday had went off on their own after they'd all been brought into the Dracula private quarters, and Erin couldn't help but feel, well,  _jealous_  she supposed. Vlad was, well, they were... Okay, so it was a little more complicated than she'd like but she had thought she and Vlad were sort of meant to be dating, and now he was going off with the daughter of the weirdest family she'd met. Well, okay, weirdest  _breather_  family she'd met, but considering that they'd claimed Bertrand was their cousin, she wasn't entirely sure they were all breather.

"So, um, what's the deal? I thought you didn't like breathers?" Erin asked Ingrid. She was still sort of smarting from the assumption earlier made by Morticia, but thought that if she ignored it, that would be for the best. Ingrid looked up from her magazine, questioning. "I mean, I thought that vampires weren't allowed to … socialise with breathers. So how...?"

"Well, it's the Addams," Ingrid answered plainly. Erin continued to look confused, and Ingrid sighed irritably, placing her magazine down on the table. "The Addamses are a very old, established family. They're connected to all sort of brigands, scammers, pirates, thieves, con-men, you name it." She paused, leaning back slightly in her wooden chair. "The whole family has a passion for the dark that's really very vampiric. Anyway, the last Grand High Vampire was married to an Addams Matriarch."

"Oh," Erin blinked. "So... how do you know them?" By this point, Ingrid had resumed reading her magazine.

"The castle next to ours in Transylvania was their summer home," she said, "we used to … play … together as children," she added conversationally. "They've got an elder son – Pugsley – he's away training to be a Witch-Doctor. The one that's spending time with Wolfie is their youngest, Pubert."

"That sounds filthy," Erin muttered. She had forgotten about that fact that vampires had far better hearing than most.

"They thought so too." Ingrid said, sounding as if the comment was a compliment. Erin stared for a moment, before shaking her head. There was silence for a few moments, as Erin tried to work out exactly what it was she wanted to say. She couldn't really put it all into words, they just seemed to get jumbled up and stuck at the back of her throat.

"So, Vlad and Wednesday...?"

"She kept trying to kill him, he somehow found it endearing," Ingrid sounded irritated at being constantly interrupted. She looked up, and saw the worried expression on Erin's face, and couldn't help but smirk at it."You don't need to get  _jealous_ , Erin. Wednesday's an Addams, they've been using arranged marriages since... well, since always," she said. Erin gave a shaky smile, and stood quickly.

"I'm just going to … go," she said, leaving the room. Ingrid smirked.

"How transparent," she muttered to herself, picking up the magazine again. A thought entered her mind, causing her to send it slamming back down on to the table. "No, they  _wouldn't_  do that, would they?"

 **xXx**

The moon was full, and Vlad and Wednesday were moon-bathing on the roof.

"They sent you to  _camp_ , seriously?" Vlad's voice was incredulous, totally unable to believe what Wednesday was telling him. "Camp? You?"

"Uncle Fester was getting married," she explained. "To Debbie, she was our Nanny. She died though. Died an Addams death." He looked at her. "Yes, she also happened to be a psychopath who tried to kill us all to get the money." There was a pause, and Vlad turned away, a soft laugh coming from his as he did so.

"Sounds more like it," he said, grinning. Wednesday rolled her eyes, and smacked his arm – unusually lightly all things considered. There was a few moments of companionable silence, before Vlad spoke. "So, I almost killed Ingrid and Dad," he told her. She looked over, staring unblinkingly. "There was this thing, and I got taken over by my thousand evil reflections and... yeah, tried to kill them." A beat. "Obviously, it didn't work, I regained control, but still."

"You always did choke at the last," Wednesday scoffed lightly. "To think; you finally found your blood-lust, and I missed it." There was a tone almost like annoyance in Wednesday's voice, but Vlad knew better than to suggest such a thing to the girl. She had a habit of carrying daggers on her, and that would lead to slightly discomforting thoughts about where she might be hiding one right now. Vlad had long realised he'd be glad when puberty was finally done with him. "I always said you would destroy them within a day."

"Within an hour, please," Vlad rolled his eyes. Wednesday looked at him.

"Stop trying to sound impressive," she warned. "How is Cousin Bertrand getting on with your tutoring?" she asked, genuinely curious despite herself. "He seemed far more sullen when we spoke," she added, "it must be dreadful for him here."

"He seems to be enjoying himself, yeah," Vlad agreed, giving a shrug of his shoulders. "He knows the facts, and right now, I need those. If any of the clans turn against me, I'll have assassins after me." Wednesday's face gained a very sinister smirk.

"How thrilling."

 **xXx**

The following day, and all the young vampires had to attend classes, Wednesday following Vlad like a growth. This meant Bertrand  _couldn't_  follow him around, which seemed to annoy him slightly. Having said that, at least it was his young Cousin doing the following, and not that half-fang so his anger was eased. The group, such as it was, did draw a lot of attention from their fellow Garside Grangers. Well, actually, it was Wednesday who drew all the attention. She was rather like her mother when it came to the fact that people found it hard to look away from her.

Vlad would have told them this was a good policy; looking away gives her an opening.

"Who's the Goth?" Becky asked Erin, when she separated from the group to go an speak with her friend. Becky eyed Wednesday up and down, taking a sip of her Coke in a manner that somehow managed to express jealously, annoyance, and curiosity all at once. "How come Vlad's letting her... hang all over him like that?" Erin glanced back. Wednesday wasn't 'hanging over' Vlad, there was a more than respectable distant between the pair. Besides which, Erin couldn't see Wednesday as the type to hang over someone. Now,  _hanging_  someone... well, that was a different story. "Thought you two were back on?" Becky's voice broke into Erin's thoughts.

"Oh, um," she began, "yeah, I'm not... I don't know what's going on, exactly." It wasn't technically a lie, Erin really didn't know what was going on between her and Vlad any more. "It's complicated, I guess," she shrugged, hitching her bag up her shoulder as she did. Becky looked at her serious for just a moment, before flicking her hair over her shoulder, taking another drink from the open can.

"Whatever, I reckon you're well shot of him." She turned to look at the pair, heads bent closely together as they spoke, walking up the corridor. "He's clearly got no taste." There was a pause. "Come on, we've got double Chemistry," she turned, heading towards the science block. Erin took a second to glance back. Ingrid was busy with her group of admires, and Vlad and Wednesday had already gone. She frowned once more, pulling on the straps of her bag. "Well, come on!" Becky called back.

With a sigh, Erin turned and followed.

 **xXx**

Morticia and Gomez were taking tea with the Count and the infinitely charming Miss Alex McCauley in the Count's office. He had explained to him how the people referred to him as Mr. Count here, and they had both on the strain of hidden fondness when he was telling them about Alex McCauley. Morticia, having now met the woman in question, would have to agree. Infinitely charming, not to mention extremely no-nonsense. Something Morticia could admire, especially from a women in the professions. "You say you met in Transylvania, Mrs Addams?" Miss McCauley inquired politely.

"Oh yes," Morticia placed her teacup down carefully on the saucer – such finely chipped china was hard to come by. "Yes, we had the neighbouring castle. Such a dreary little place," she said in an exceedingly fond tone. "So many wonderful summers spent there." She looked over at Miss McCauley. To her credit, the women simply smiled back.

"And Wednesday, she would be?"

"Our only daughter." Miss McCauley recognised the look Morticia was wearing now, having seen it in many parents; pride in one's child was an admirable quality. "She and Vlad were such dear playmates as children, it's good to see them getting along so nicely now, after such a long period of absence." There was a pause, and Morticia continue, though far quieter, and in a manner which made it obvious it was not meant to be heard by others, but that she couldn't stop herself from saying it. "Of course, if that woman didn't keep betraying her family, I'm sure it wouldn't be quite so long."

And with that, Morticia Addams went up several places in Alex McCauley's regard. Of course, it didn't change the fact that her daughter was encouraging some of the more unpleasant aspects of Vlad's personality, but she did have to admit that she'd never seen the boy so... so happy as he was with the young Miss Addams around. If only she didn't encourage him to chaos.

"No, really old man, computers!" Gomez's voice grew louder as he spoke to the Count. "Fantastic investment, I bought stocks back in the 80's – they just keep making me money!" There was a pause, as Gomez chewed on the end of his cigar for a moment. "Madness, really."

"Really? Computers, you say?" Mr. Count sounded interested. He began searching through his desk. "Ah, Miss McCauley, didn't you put in a request for funds for new computers?" He said loudly, continuing to look through the papers, to find the request form. It took a few moments of frantic searching, before he found the form, crumpled and only slightly torn at the corners. "Ah yes, here we go!"

"You're going to release the funds?" Miss McCauley sounded incredulous. "But I've been asking for months now-"

"Yes, well," the Count cut in, not really wanting to be shown up in front of the Addamses. "Well, perhaps I was a bit hasty, yes? How much would be needed to fit one of those computer lab things?" he asked. Miss McCauley blinked, placed her cup and saucer carefully down on the table, before moving round to speak to him quietly. Gomez and Morticia exchanged similar looks. Ah, new love.


	2. In Which People Talk

Vlad was skipping class; a practice that he did not normally partake in, today was a very special exception. He had tried to pay attention to Mr. Henthorn, but the man just had this annoying ability to drone on and on, and Wednesday was getting bored and she was only  _holding_  her penknife, she wasn't actually going to use it. More's the pity, Vlad thought those boys deserved being properly scared at the very least. Since she had appeared in the school wings that morning, Wednesday hadn't been able to take a step without getting attention somehow, mostly from the more  _cool_  boys. They preened, and posed, and really Vlad's inner psycho wasn't wrong when he pointed out that in some cases gutting was really too good.

And there was a strong part of the reason that Vlad had chosen to skip class. It wasn't as though the evil reflections had disappeared because he could always feel them brimming below the surface, but he thought he had control of them. Yet every time they made a comment, he found himself inclined to agree, especially if the comment had anything to do with Wednesday or what she could do for some of the stupid bloodba - No! He didn't have those types of thoughts; people are friends, not food, and besides which Wednesday didn't need him being the overprotective childhood friend, she was  _Wednesday Addams_. Even higher level demons feared her.

"You're quiet," Wednesday said, staring at Vlad unblinkingly. Her eyes were a very intense sort of grey-green, he noted, the type of eyes that would look on calmly as you burned to a cinder in front of them. "You don't suit brooding, Vlad. You're far too aware of the majority of your psychological issues for it too really work," she added in a dismissive comment that brought a laugh out of Vlad without him realising it had done so. They sat in companionable silence once again, Wednesday fidgeting with her pen knife once more.

"Wed? Why did your family chose now to visit?" Vlad asked finally, breaking the silence. Wednesday turned her gaze on him, a slight frown only barely apparent on her face. "Not that it's not great to see you, you know I love hanging out with you," he assured her, "but it's just... It's been four years, Wednesday, so why now?" Wednesday continued to play with the pen knife, before sighing angrily, driving it into the fake wooden table top.

"I'm at the age were Mother, Grand-mama, and Aunt Ophelia are starting to look out potential husbands for me," she explained. Vlad gave a blank look. "The Addamses have a long and proud tradition of arranged marriages, and since I have no plans for continuing in education," she rolled her eyes – Wednesday considered education to be a sort of sexual disease, you picked it up unwillingly and couldn't help passing it on - "they see no problem in trying to arrange a marriage earlier than they had estimated." There was another pause.

"So, is this your way of telling me I'm supposed to be getting married to you?" Vlad ventured.

"No, you're not on the list."

"Oh. Why not?" Vlad managed to sound indignant and petulant all at once, and neither sat well with Wednesday, who shot him a glare that had him looking towards the ground, and wishing it would open up underneath him. "It's just … I mean …" he paused, forcing himself not to sound like he did when he was 9, trying to explain to Pugsley just  _why_  it was his sister had announced that they had engaged in the sacred Addams blood rites that meant they were now bonded. They  _hadn't_ , but Wednesday wanted to see what colour Pugsley would turn if he thought his little sister had beaten him to engage someone in the blood rites.

"Because you're going to be the Grand High Vampire, and Grand-mama pointed out you will likely have a political match for your first wife," Wednesday pointed out. Vlad scowled. He'd forgotten about that. Well, not forgotten so much as deliberately did not think on it as he was meant to be dating Erin. Which was a big meant to be, because lately everything seemed a bit more... wishy-washy that it had before the whole 'going crazy evil with all the reflections' incident, and they hadn't really had the opportunity to sit and talk about any of it. He supposed he kept putting it off. "But, perhaps," Wednesday was continuing to speak and Vlad quickly directed his attention back to her. He knew better, after all. "Perhaps you've pointed out the way out of our problems."

Vlad blinked. "...Come again?"

**xXx**

"Why would they be visiting now?" Ingrid strode into the training room without so much as a by-your-leave, which irritated Bertrand. His grip on the kendo stick relaxed, as he turned to the eldest of the Dracula children. He knew that really, he had no place to be getting irritated, but some things happen regardless of wanting them to or not. It was a fact of both life and unlife. "Well? Are you going to answer my question, or are you just going to stand there with that gormless look on your face?" Ingrid rolled her eyes, folding her arms.

Bertrand inclined his head. "Well, it has been four years," he had always been quick on the uptake, it was one of many reasons contributing to his landing such a position at such a young age. "Cousin Morticia is always one for recalling dreary memories and the misery they bring," There was a pause. If Bertrand were a lesser vampire, he would shrug to show his indifference at this moment. "If there is an ulterior motive," his eyes flickered up, noting that while Ingrid's face was impassive, her stance had become slightly more defensive, how interesting, "I would not think that it would be as … simple as what you might imagine it to be."

"So you think there's a chance?" Ingrid seized upon this area of the conversation, stepping forward with a determined look upon her face. "It might not have been their main intention, but everyone knows how," she paused, a twist in her mouth appearing as she spoke, " _fortunate_  members of the Addams family are when it comes to fortuitous marriages." Her eyebrow raised, as she lifted her chin. Bertrand idly mused that, despite being the elder Dracula and the arguable model for what a vampire should be, Ingrid had no where near the skill of Vlad for hiding the intentions in her words.

"I would think that it was unlikely that the match would not have been a discussion at some point between your Father and Gomez and Morticia," Bertrand's answer was diplomatic, and Ingrid bristled at it. She much preferred straight answers, rather than people trying to be clever with their words. "The families are, after all, old friends, and it has been many years since there was a marriage to join them," Bertrand looked down to the kendo stick again, turning it round in his hands. "In all respects, it would seem to be a smart match." There was a pause.

"Please, the breather lover marrying Wednesday Addams?" Ingrid gave a very pointed look. "It'd be like he'd won the lottery, and came into a huge inheritance all on the same day." She waved her hand dismissively. "That's not my point here; that's  _not_  what they're here for, right?" Ingrid's look grew more pointed, and Bertrand turned away, placing the stick down, as he came to the realisation that he wouldn't get back to his training tonight. "Well?"

"No," he answered. "It's not." He turned to face Ingrid again. "My Cousins are well aware of the fact that Vlad will be required, in his role as Grand High Vampire, to marry from one of the prominent bloodlines." Ingrid's look had moved from him.

"They might be aware of it," she said, "but do you think Wednesday will listen to the expectations of some old coffin fillers?"


	3. In Which Dinner is Had and Some Explaining to Do

Dinner that night was to be a grand affair; and Renfield had been set to work from ridiculously early that morning. Only the finest road kill stew and ocelot for such honoured guests of the Dracula family. There were standards to maintain, after all. Henbane tea had been set to brew all afternoon, and the Count sent for the finest wines and bloods from the cellar. Standards, after all, must be kept. Or, as Erin secretly suspected, he just wanted that chance to show off and prove that despite their now seemingly reduced circumstances, living above a school, the family was still incredibly affluent. At least, that was how Erin was explaining it in her mind. She could be incredibly wrong, of course, but she somehow doubted it. Especially considering that they were all told to dress accordingly for the situation. Fortunate then, that she had a dress that wasn't too shabby in her opinion, and would be nice for a dinner.

When the dinner gong was sounded – and yes, she did find that pretentious thank you for asking – Erin made hr way to the dining area where everyone else would be gathering. Ingrid was dressed to the nines, of course, and Erin felt that familiar stab of jealousy. It wasn't that she was particularly into the Gothic look that Ingrid could pull off so easily, but it was more the fact that she could pull it off so easily, and look completely in her element doing it. That confidence was enviable. "Hi Ingrid," she smiled, slipping into the chair besides her. "Not seen you since earlier," she commented.

"Hm, well, I've been... busy," Ingrid said, idly tapping her knife off of the table. She glanced at Erin, and there seemed to be something on her mind, judging by the ponderous look on her face. Whatever it was, she opted to say something about it. "Erin," Ingrid started. She was interrupted by the arrival of Vlad and Wednesday, who sat besides each other at the table. "Worm Bait, Wednesday" Ingrid greeted with a tight smile, eyes narrowing to judge the distance between them.

The Addamses, it turned out, regularly ate the type of meals Renfield produced, and declared him to be a culinary genius, asking the Count how much it would take to steal him away. Renfield tittered. "No, no," he said in a jovial tone, "I'm loyal to my Master. He's the best Master a drooling drudge like me could ever hope to ask for," he added in a simpering tone, turning to the Count with fluttering eyelashes. It was quite a sight. The Count, for his part, simply rolled his eyes.

"Yes, well, get out!"

"Of course, Master."

Renfield finished serving up the meals, and scurried off. After a toast - entirely for show – they were invited to dig in and enjoy their meals. Erin discreetly pushed at the dead meat on her plate, and wondered how long she could push it around tonight before someone caught her out for not eating. She made a mental note to jump to the local 24 hour supermarket, and pick up some more of the vegetarian suitable meals. She had forgotten to do it, what with the visitors arriving, and the sick feeling in her stomach was a sharp reminder as to how much she did not eat meat.

"Wednesday," Morticia's voice drew Erin from her meal time musings and pushing of the meal around her plate, and she looked up. Morticia sipped from a glass of blood red wine – and Erin was sure it was wine and not blood because it moved far smoother than blood did – and glanced over at her daughter with a wide smile. Her smiles never showed her teeth though, Erin mused, and wondered why that was. Fangs? They were related to Bertrand, after all. "What is that, on your hand?"

Erin's head snapped round. Wednesday glanced down at her hand."Oh," she said in her emotionless tone, lifting her hand to better show her mother. On her ring finger shone a large silver ring, embellished with a familiar looking crest. Erin's stomach sank, and she wondered at once how she hadn't seen it before. "Mother, Father, I have news to tell you." Vlad fiddled with his knife and fork, looking down at his plate and deliberately not up at anyone. "Vladimir proposed."

Erin wondered if you could vomit when you hadn't eaten that day.

* * *

 The glass bottle was nothing particularly impressive to look at. There were far nicer looking bottles in Renfield's own kitchen, if it was simply something shiny that the children were looking for, something to distract themselves. It was the contents of the bottle that had both boys looking at it as though it were their most precious treasure. In some small way, perhaps that would be the correct description to give the contents.

"It's called Acrimonium," Pubert informed Wolfie with a sly grin. "Grandmama says it will show the true dark self of anyone," there was awe in his tone as he spoke. Wolfie's own eyes widened, looking at the small, dark, glass bottle that Pubert held. "Only the tiniest drop is needed to do it," there was gleeful malice in Pubert's tone, and Wolfie grinned widely at it. "One drop, and then no one can hide from who they really are, or the darkness inside them." There was a beat. "Isn't that just the coolest?"

"It really is!" Wolfie agreed, reaching out to touch the bottle with his fingertips. He bit his bottom lip, musing for a moment. "Vlad could use this." Off of Pubert's look, Wolfie gave a shrug. "He's too... He's not what Uncle Count thought his son would be like," he said finally. "Ingrid said he's a breather lover, but I don't think we're meant to love breathers." He worried the bottom lip some more. Frowning as he recalled his sister's description of their brother. "But then... he's not all that nice," Wolfie added. "He's sneaky like them, but I don't think they notice it."

"Acrimonium would help there," Pubert agreed, nodding. "It could show his true vampire side to your whole family," he explained further, "then they'd see he was as sneaky as them, right?" Wolfie pondered this for a moment, before giving a heavily shaking nod of his head. Pubert gave his own smart nod in return. "Then s'simple, isn't it?" Wolfie blinked. According to Uncle Count, he was smarter than your average pup, but he didn't seem to have Pubert's quick planning skills. Pubert laughed, and shook the bottle deliberately, nodding knowingly.

"Ooh," Wolfie gave a wide grin as it became clear to him. "Good plan."

* * *

"You proposed?" Erin's voice seemed to have a level of shriek that Vlad hadn't thought capable from breathers. The younger members of the current inhabitants of the Dracula quarters had quickly excused themselves after Wednesday's announcement Well, more to the point, Erin had bolted from the table, with Vlad following after a moment's pause. Wednesday had followed when he left, and amused, Ingrid tagged along. Erin was not pleased to see the hangers-on, but she was too irate to think about it properly. "You _proposed_  to  _her_?!" She gave a loud, hysterical laugh. "Might have escaped your notice, Vlad, but I'm meant to be your girlfriend.  _Me_! Not some … Goth girl!"

"Eloquent," Wednesday commented dryly. Erin shot her a scathing look.

"Why don't you just shut up," she snapped at the other girl. "I was talking to  _my_ _boyfriend_ , not to you," Erin growled the last, turning a furious glare on Vlad. For his part, Vlad seemed to be carefully ignoring the whole situation looking to the ground, and pulling at the sleeve on his suit jacket, and no, Erin wasn't happy he'd chosen to wear his best suit for this girl. She was justified in her anger today, she felt, after all, her boyfriend was going to marry someone else. "Vlad! She snapped again, moving forward to slap him only to be quailed by the seemingly non ending death stare that Wednesday had long perfected.

"If you would be quiet for long enough to allow the air to return to your brain, we could explain," Wednesday said in that monotone of hers that Erin was growing to detest. What did she even mean by 'explain'? Explain who she had seduced Erin's boyfriend away with dark witchy powers? Erin wouldn't put it past her. "I have no desire to marry," Wednesday said. "Be it to Vladimir," she gave him a respectful nod, which he returned, "or to anyone. He is well aware of this."

"And I'm not exactly rushing to find myself a bride," Vlad cut in. "But, if a betrothal is made..." he trailed off, giving a shrug of his shoulders. Ingrid looked impressed.

"Clever, little brother," she said, before glancing at Wednesday. "Though your work, I assume?" Wednesday nodded, and Ingrid gave her own nod of approval. "Well, it seems like you've put a lot of thought into it or," she paused, and gave a half shrug, "at least more thought than usual." She glanced backwards at Erin, then to Wednesday, before finally back at Vlad. "So, you know if this goes wrong – which, being your plan it might – she'll be killed?"

"If it goes wrong," Vlad said, "I'm willing to make sure she won't be."

* * *

By the time everyone came back to the dinner table, Erin's bad mood was still present. The plan, such as it was, had been explained to her, but that didn't mean she had to like any of this. It was entirely too risky, and as the only one of them who had actually carried through an entirely risky plan, she knew what she was talking about. But still, she took her seat and and bit her tongue. Though not literally. The Count was looking decidedly pleased.

"Well then," he clapped his hands together in a far too jovial manner. "This calls for a toast; our families will be joined at last! Renfield!" Renfield came bustling in, followed by Pubert and Wolfie, who both made a grand show of helping him out, much to Morticia's delight. Erin saw Wednesday roll her eyes at the boys antics and reminded herself that she wasn't allowed to stab the girl with her bread knife. Not while they were still at the table at any rate. Once everyone had received a glass of whatever vintage was at their tastes, the Count stood. "A toast!" He announced grandly, lifting his goblet in the direction of Vlad and Wednesday. "May their lives together be less than perfect. To the unhappy couple!"

"The unhappy couple!" was the repeat. Everyone drank, and the Count retook his seat.

"Really, Vladdy," he scolded his son in a good natured manner. "You should have told me you were planning this." He leant back grandly in his throne. "After all, what I am if not an expert of the female heart." Erin wasn't the only one who gave a disbelieving snort, but Ingrid managed to hide hers far better than Erin did. "Well, how did you do it, Vladdy my boy?" Vlad didn't respond. "Vladimir?"

Erin felt fear clutch at her stomach as the evil laugh that haunted her nightmares echoed forth from Vlad.

"Yes,  _Daddy_?"


	4. Crossbow, Half Truths, and Fangs

Seeing Vlad coming under the control of his thousand or so evil reflections was not something that either the Count or Ingrid particularly wanted to have to explain to their visitors. It probably didn't help matters, however, that they both shot out of their chairs on hearing the laugh, driving a very evil looking smirk from Vlad. "Oh, Daddy, Sister dearest, do I scare you that much?" There was an innocence to what he was saying, it sounded almost musical. "How pleasant." Almost. He turned his head, and hissed deliberately at Erin, fangs elongated.

She bolted from her seat too, standing backwards behind her chair but holding her hands out in a defensive position. Vlad simply laughed. "Vlad, what's going on?" Erin managed to get out. She watched as he picked up his knife, seeing Gomez and Morticia shifting back, understanding somehow that this wasn't their usual type of knife play, that there was something more sinister at work. Wednesday have moved her chair slightly, but not much. Vlad began carving on to the table. "Vlad." Erin tried again.

The carving on the table was a beautiful picture, if you were into the kind of macabre designs the reflection-controlled version of Vlad was more inclined to putting out. The carvings were lightly done in to the table, just enough of a scraping of the dark top to provide images of the slightly lighter underneath. Erin glanced backwards at Ingrid, before edging closer, looking over at the carving. It wasn't exactly a work of art, but it was clear enough to see the intention, and again, beautiful in an extremely disturbing manner. The carving showed everyone in the room lying flat, their limbs all twisted into directions Erin was positive they couldn't turn to naturally.

"It's my vision for the future, Erin," Vlad said to her. There was a dark gleam in his eyes, and his fangs were still out when he looked up at her with a dark chuckle. "Isn't it just to die for?" No one could blame Erin for stumbling back the way she did. No one could blame her for the chilled fear running around the pit of her stomach. Not if they saw Vlad the way he was. There was a thudding noise, and Erin saw from the corner of her eye the Count closing the door behind himself. She was alone in the room with Vlad. And Wednesday. Who currently looked bored. Fantastic.

There was another loud thumping as the door was flung open. Bertrand entered, a hard look on his face, raising a crossbow. Erin gasped. She knew he would turn on Vlad one day, but she didn't think she'd be glad for it happening. Her mind was a mess of conflicted emotions, and she wanted to turn to her heels and run, but at the same time she wanted to jump in front of Vlad, and protect him from his traitor of a tutor. "Bertrand," she gasped out, "what are you doing?"

Bertrand didn't answer, but Vlad looked up. He took in the crossbow silently, pushing his chair back and standing suddenly. "You're always going to be loyal to the wimp, aren't you, Bertrand?" He stepped forward menacingly, and Bertrand took a step backward. His jaw tightened, and he raised the crossbow higher, finger itching at the trigger. But he didn't set the flight loose. Vlad clicked his fingers, and the crossbow flew from Bertrand's hands. Vlad glanced at it, before tossing it sideways on to the table. Erin found her gaze drawn between it and the two vampires. She could get it, she could end this before Vlad did something he would regret.

"The spineless little loser begs you to dust him if he ever shows any sign of being capable of ruling," Vlad taunted Bertrand, who still hadn't responded, but was stepping backwards. Erin's gaze landed on him, her eyes narrowing. Wait, Vlad... had asked him to dust him if he ever got taken over by his reflections? That... made no sense! Why would Vlad ask that of Bertrand? Why couldn't he trust her with something like that? Why would he think something like that was even needed? "And what do you do? You give your  _word_ ," Vlad was scoffing. "You know I'd be far more capable than him, and I would reward you greatly-"

An arrow from the crossbow flew past, grabbing strands of Vlad's hair in its flight. He turned, and snarled. Wednesday lowered the crossbow, looking completely unimpressed. "Are you done?"

"Breather!" Vlad hissed. "You dare -"

"Easily," Wednesday responded, setting another arrow into place and firing it off. "You are pathetic," she said, setting up once more, "You call this blood-lust? It's nothing more than an temper tantrum."

Vlad snarled, and grabbed Wednesday by the shoulders. "I'll show you blood-lust."

* * *

"I say, Dracula old boy," Gomez bit the end of his cigar, before puffing away in a hectic manner. "I wish you'd told us about your son's blood lust " He beamed manically, and Erin found herself wondering yet again just what these people actually were, because there was no way they were just breathers. "Marvelous really, they'll be such an unhappy couple!"

"Dreadfully miserable," Morticia gave that wide, closed mouth smile once again, before turning her head slightly to catch sight of Ingrid. Ingrid did not look happy, instead seeming on edge, glancing over towards the door every so often, and wrapping her cape around her shoulders, trying to hide any bit of exposed skin. While any type of neurotic behaviour was happily accepted by members of the Addams family as a sign of great character, Morticia was well aware of the fact that Ingrid was deadly confident, and did not believe in giving herself any weaknesses. A slight feeling of unpleasant dread built in he stomach and it wasn't the type that was so delicious she enjoyed.

"Yes, well," the Count was just as distracted as Ingrid, though he didn't glance at he door quite to much. He did seem quite focused on his fastening of his cape, however, as if he were trying to make sure that was all that was hanging from his neck. "Vlad is … his blood lust has to be seen to be believed," the Count settled on, managing a shaky smile. "We don't talk about it, bragging you know." Gomez nodded, understanding. Once again, Morticia felt as though something were off, and she just wasn't sure what it was.

Bertrand entered the room. "He took Wednesday." The Count looked shocked, and Ingrid rolled her eyes. "I know, he's out of his depth, but he's not thinking logically," he paused, and looked at both the Count and Ingrid, wanting to impress the importance of his words on them. "We might be able to use that." Ingrid stopped adjusting her cape, now satisfied it was covering her fully, and gave a nod, face set in a hard position.

Gomez and Morticia exchanged looks. They were deliberately being kept out of the loop on something very important. They suspected that if they asked directly they would only be given half truths, and distracted by something flippant as the subject was attempted to be immediately changed. Their reaction, of course, was exactly the same: what  _good_ hosts the Dracula's were. After all, where else could you expect to get that feeling of being watched and hated and everything you do being studied for clues to anything in such dreary locations? They should open a hotel; they'd make a killing.

* * *

If Vlad had expected Wednesday to come along quietly, then it would have appeared that his evil self had none of the self preservation skills of his everyday self, without even mentioning the sheer lacking of common sense going on there. Wednesday Addams was not in any sense willing to be the typical victim of a vampire, no matter how evil that vampire thought himself, and thus fought every single step of the way. Which wasn't very long considering that Vlad had been using his vampiric speed to remove them from the Dracula quarters, but the point remained that Wednesday remained calm, and fought back.

When they stopped, well, the fighting didn't stop them. Wednesday punched Vlad, and he punched her back. When she went to kick him, he caught her foot with one hand and sent it flying back to the ground but that made him unaware of the sharp right hook heading for his nose. He hissed in pain, recoiling and snarling at Wednesday who – annoyingly – didn't look as though she'd been fighting at all. Her skin was incredibly pale, flawlessly so, Vlad noted, his eyes darkening slightly just looking at it.

Wednesday spotted the darkening eyes, and smirk. She reached out, and gently took his hand. The gentleness of this action is what surprised Vlad. He looked down at the hand. It was not exactly smooth, but the feel of the roughness from years of crossbow use felt right and sent a pleasant shiver up Vlad's spine. He looked back up at Wednesday, and gave a fangy smirk. She smirked again, and placed her other hand on his wrist. She pulled, and flipped him over.

He pulled her on top of him and held tight.

His fangs sunk into her neck.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to use a good mix of the 60's/90's sitcoms, the movies, and the musical to flesh out the dear Addamses. Title taken entirely from the musical, and while cheesy, it feels a good fit for the fic. The Young Dracula portion of the fic comes from early series 3, though whereabouts exactly would be hard to pin-point.


End file.
